


the strait of gibraltar

by TomBowline



Series: saltwater [1]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Edward Little's Nipple Piercings, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Sgt Solomon Tozer, Piss without Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Vacation, Wake-Up Sex, Watersports, also talking to each other thru loving touches and some other gay shit, just gonna get that out right up front!, mostly very dirty sex though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomBowline/pseuds/TomBowline
Summary: Sol and Ned, on holiday in Spain, take a break from their revels to have some filthy sun-soaked sex.
Relationships: Lt Edward Little/Sgt Solomon Tozer
Series: saltwater [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935106
Comments: 23
Kudos: 33





	the strait of gibraltar

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. My personal judgement call is that you could probably read and enjoy this even if you don't have an active interest in watersports, but if it yucks you out, this one's not for you.

They had a week here, in this beautiful flat in this beautiful town on the south coast of Spain. One week to do all the things Edward had never gotten to during his uni-era vacations on the continent - things Sol had never even entertained the idea of. They had sampled some excellent foods and drinks, been out ‘til late to see music, bought trinkets for friends back home. (Ned’s pleasure came from sharing these larks with Sol, and Sol’s pleasure came in the main from watching Ned enjoy them.) Sol had gotten to see Ned in his new blue trunks, cropped short and gleaming wet; Ned had gotten to see Sol cut through the water with an athlete’s power, muscles shifting under his furred freckling skin. And of course they had both gotten to come back to their rooms overlooking the beach long after the moon had risen, after they had eaten and drank and swum their fill, and do much more than see.

Today was the fourth day, and it was a day of rest. Apart from a midday swim, they would stay at the rental all day to lounge about and gain their strength back for three more days of holidaymaking. No dizzying quantities of tapas plates or signature regional spirits today, only frozen cocktails in ready-to-drink pouches and the meats, cheeses, fruits they had selected from the street market. Sol had gotten to do his morning workout watching the sun rise over the ocean to turn the air to boiling, and Ned had gotten to sleep in to a ridiculous hour.

Now it was mid-afternoon, and if it had been boiling outside in the morning, it had now resolved into a steady sort of baking. The sensation was not helped by the clay-tiled terrace they were currently lying about on in their bathing suits and beach towels; the awning could shelter them from the sun’s direct rays, but the entire world seemed to be evenly sweltering at the moment. When they’d first got back from swimming, it had been nice; Sol had had that fresh, chilly feeling that one could get coming out of the water no matter how hot the day. Now he was thoroughly dry (edging back around into damp from how much he was sweating, in fact) and it was all becoming a bit much for him, the soaking heat and the shade from the awning making him drowsy. It was alright for Ned, who could sleep anywhere at any time _for_ any length of time and be no worse at the end of it, but Sol was close to the end of his patience for lying about. He wanted something to do. 

He rolled over onto his front to thump Ned on the belly, see if he could try to get him up, and as he did so a tightening in his abdomen that had been background noise asserted itself more insistently. The isotonic from his workout and the frozen cocktail pouches from before their swim (and then again after their swim) were working themselves towards a terminus.

Okay, yeah, he could roll with this. He was betting Ned could too.

The first time had been back when they’d just started living together: Sol had come back from rugby training bursting for a piss, Ned had wanted a tumble like he usually did when Sol came to him loose-limbed and sweaty from the pitch, Sol had reached a point of urgency and tried to beg off when Ned had his shorts down to swallow his prick on the kitchen floor, Ned had dropped his mouth open and mumbled “I don’t mind”— And Sol hadn’t expected to be _into_ it, not really, but something about Ned like that, shirt soaked, face slick, the smell of it clinging to him, all down to Sol - it was incendiary. Not to mention how good the pissing itself felt when it got that desperate. It was nowhere near desperate now, but that could be good too - to be lazy, to indulge. 

Sol’s hand landed gently on Ned’s belly, followed by his mouth. He let his scruff scratch along Ned’s soft skin as he pressed little greeting kisses to his flank, his hip, his sternum. _It’s me,_ he was saying, _let me take you for a lark, let me do something you’ll enjoy. Wake up and let’s have fun._

When he got his mouth around Ned’s left nipple and started tugging the ring there gently with his tongue, his boyfriend gave a soft stretched-out groan and sent up one clumsy hand to tangle in Sol’s hair, scratching at his nape. Sol hummed into it before pulling off and squinting up at Ned: his eyes were open, and a lazy smile was spreading over his face. “You up, then?”

“Yeah, ’m up. You wanna mess around?” They both knew the answer. Ned asked anyway.

“Hmm, yeah.” Sol rubbed his cheek against Ned’s chest. “Kinda have to piss.”

Another long, rumbling groan from Ned. From behind him Sol felt the shift of Ned’s legs as he squeezed at his cock. “Oh, I’m dreaming,” he sighed. “Come up here?”

Sol shifted over, letting Ned’s hands settle on his hips as he swung up to straddle Ned’s hips, thighs splayed, trunks stretched tight over muscle and heft. On the street far below, a lorry horn honked insistently. A conversation in Spanish drifted in and then out of their hearing. “Nobody can see us out here,” Sol whispered, voice dropping so deep it was half a growl. He leaned down close to get in Ned’s ear. Hot skin and cool metal against his chest, and Christ he _wanted._ “We’re up here in the open air, out in the sun and all and nobody can see us. We can do anything we want,” he added, taking that moment to start grinding his own cock lazily against Ned’s. A sharp whine was all the answer he got.

He was grinding without any real intention - it wouldn't do for him to get too hard just now, after all. When Ned started to get twitchy underneath him, all eyes fluttering around and pink bitten lips, Sol cleared his throat and ceased to move. Ned’s hands convulsed on his hips, and he started the litany Sol was dying to hear: “Please,” he gasped, “Sol, c’mon, please—”

It was always something, when it wasn’t so far along that Sol could just let go, when he had to push it out like this. It felt more intentional, less explicable. Filthier. Sometimes he would stroke down the length of his prick with two fingers until he started up; that seemed to be a favorite for Ned. Today, though, he didn’t need to. He just held himself up on his haunches over Ned’s crotch for a long moment, and when he ground back down, he was pissing. It was perfect. 

The effect on Ned was immediate. As the slow gush began to flow through Sol’s trunks into Ned’s, he moaned and panted and gripped Sol’s flanks hard enough to bruise. He could _feel_ the jerk of Ned’s cock against his own, and imagined that Ned’s precome must be mingling with his piss. One thumb found its way to about where Sol’s bladder was and pushed in, firm and hungry. This made the sensation of emptying himself that much more tangible and wonderful for Sol; Ned’s hand on his belly was telling him, _Keep going, give me everything, don’t stop. Make us both feel good._

Sol kept grinding down on Ned as he finished, the sensation not dissimilar to stroking himself through aftershocks of an orgasm. While his prick was beginning to fatten in his trunks, Ned’s was clearly as hard as it could get; he was reduced to gasping and squirming under Sol now, bucking his hips up minutely. With a supernatural grace and speed Sol shifted up on one knee and undid the laces of Ned’s trunks to pull his prick out. As he got his hand around it he found he didn’t need to spit; it was wet enough for the moment just from his piss and Ned’s precome. And as it happened, the moment was just about all that was called for: within a few strokes of Sol’s hand on his cock, a few thumbed circles over his head and slick sounds as he stripped him off tip-to-base, Ned was bucking his hips up again as he spurted over Sol’s fingers.

When he judged Ned to be sufficiently collected, Sol swiped up his spunk and held his fingers out to him. “Here,” he grunted. “Clean ’em off, hmm?”

Ned sucked them in with zeal. He tongued over the three digits Sol gave him with such eagerness that Sol was abruptly reminded of his own hardon, pulsing in his trunks. “Feel like using your mouth some more?”

With a hearty nod from Ned, Sol stripped off his wet trunks and spread himself out on his own towel, legs falling open and prick standing red and proud between thick hairy thighs. But Ned shook his head and patted Sol’s flank. _Turn over_. 

Sol shrugged and did as he was told; the next thing he felt was Ned’s tongue pressing down his crack to circle his hole.

He barely bit back a curse; did not manage to keep his hips from twitching into Ned’s face. This was one of Ned’s favorite things to do, he had learned, and it damn sure wasn’t a hardship to be on the receiving end of it. He was methodical enough to take Sol apart with practiced ease, and sloppy enough that Sol knew he was enjoying it too. As he fastened his lips to Sol’s hole and started to suck, Sol let out a soft _“Fuck”_ and ground his prick into the towel. This was met by Ned’s hand gripping one of his cheeks with a stroking, cautioning squeeze - _you can wait, can’t you, you don’t have to rub off like that to get relief_ \- and a redoubled campaign on his hole, now sucking, now gently teasing with the point of his tongue, now licking round in firm coaxing circles. 

By the time Ned could spear the tip of his tongue into Sol’s hole without resistance, they were both moaning and Sol was ready for more. He was reaching the end of his capacity for leisure once again; he needed action. He said as much by grinding down onto the towel once again and groaning high and plaintive; _D_ _o something, suck me, fuck me, anything, good bleeding Christ._

With a growl Ned took his hips in his hands once again and flipped him onto his arse; then, unexpectedly, he leaned up onto his knees and disappeared from Sol’s direct sightline. Sol barely had time to wonder at it before Ned was back with the jar of lube they’d left on the patio table from the other day. _Fuck, yes, please._ He slicked his fingers quickly and pressed one into Sol without ceremony; it slipped in easy, its way slackened by Ned’s tongue. The second followed soon enough, and Ned started crooking them up to brush over Sol’s prostate, thumb pressed in snug to his taint. Sol was rocking into him now, chasing it. It was too much. It wasn’t enough.

Finally, _finally,_ when Ned was three fingers into Sol and driving in mercilessly, he ducked his head down abruptly and took Sol’s cock in his mouth. Immediately Sol knew he wouldn’t last; it was too good, Ned’s fingers deep in his arse on one side and on the other Ned’s tongue swirling around his cockhead, licking down his length, chasing the taste of his piss. He nudged Ned with a foot to warn him, too far gone to form words, but Ned just dropped down further and swallowed around Sol as he pumped frantically, finally down Ned’s throat.

Sol didn’t pay much attention to the world for a long moment after that. The first thing he registered was Ned standing on wobbly legs, gathering up Sol’s briefs and his towel with its comically huge wet spot. Sol squinted up at him. “Where you off to?”

Ned started to respond, but had to clear his throat and try again. “Shower,” he said simply.

“Hmm.” Sol shoved himself to a seated position and made to stand. “Lovely idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this PLEASE let me know, i am very nervous about putting myself out here with this one. if this one gets positive feedback i have another fic in this universe that i can post as well.


End file.
